CATERPILLARS. 
119 
slowly to one side and then to the other, but unable to 
make up his mind to advance. It was then I found out 
the fact that for imbecile indecision of character a cater- 
pillar beats all created things. No wonder it becomes a 
butterfly ! With all the skill of a native bullock driver, 
however, I humoured him, coaxed him, or prodded him 
behind, as occasion required, until I had him safely on the 
new leaf, and then, after much vacillation, he began to 
nibble and I reaped my reward. 
There was yet another caterpillar which would not move 
at all, and I discovered— O glory ! — that it was going to 
cast its skin. I had to spring to my feet and scamper off 
to my brother to tell him the news. Then we both lay 
down, with our chins on our hands, and watched the 
wonderful process. To this day the peculiar odour of half 
dry leaves which usually pervades a caterpillar cage has 
power to conjure up the remembrance of those joys, for 
the sense of smell has a stronger hold on the memory than 
even the tones of an old song. My menagerie in those 
days was never very large. I might have two or three 
Humpy-backs, half a dozen Woolly Bears of sorts, and, if 
I had been lucky, one or two butterfly-caterpillars, which 
were treasures, for humpy-backs and woolly bears pro- 
